Pleasant Dreams
by Undomiel-Estel
Summary: Late one afternoon, the King of Gondor finds a sleeping Elvish Queen.


Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just play in their world.

Aragorn lay upon the soft grass lazily, eyes closed and arms folded beneath his head. The soft sunlight of late afternoon rested gently upon him, warming his bare chest and draining his tired body of it's weariness. The King of Gondor had spent the better part of the afternoon sparing with Faramir, more out of a desire to maintain his fighting techniques after years spent as King than out of any real dispute. Anduril lay by his side, gleaming in the light, sharp glints of metal sparking as the sun hit the blade. Birds flew overhead, squawking and screeching, and below in the city, workers were coming home from a long day hungry for the evening's meal.

The King knew he should return to his study and ready himself for an approaching envoy from Harad, due later in the week. However, he found himself loathe to move at the prospect of such work after a day spent in relative idleness. It was not often that he found himself with a spare moment, let alone day, and when the rare occurrence presented itself, Aragorn made the most of it.

But his work would not get itself done, and with a disgruntled sigh, Aragorn lifted himself from the ground and stretched, the muscles in his arms protesting the effort. He bent to retrieve his sword and slowly walked the narrow expanse of his private garden to the archway leading into the royal bedchambers. Crossing the threshold, his eyes frantically tried to focus from the brightness of outdoors to the calm dimness of his chambers. The rooms were cooler than the gardens, and with a slight shiver, Aragorn knew his skin had gained come color from his hours of exposure to the sun.

He made his way through the sitting room past the ornate wooden doors leading to his bedroom. He failed to notice the lithe figure sleeping on the bed behind him as he placed Anduril against a stone table. Turning to retrieve his tunic from the foot of the bed where he had thrown it earlier, he paused as his gaze fell on his slumbering wife, nearly invisible in the thickness of the fur pelts into which she sank. Her dark satin hair fell in thick curls around her face, freshly scrubbed and smelling of lilacs. Her long limbs entangled among the animal skins, pale and silver in the scant light of the room. Confident that the fur pelts would be sufficient warmth in the early fall weather, but in an effort to remain somewhat cool, Arwen had foregone her sleeping shift. Instead she lay nude, a single black pelt thrown carelessly over her breasts and stomach.

Aragorn felt the tuggings of a small smile pull at the corners of his mouth. He ignored the abandoned tunic and instead gently sat upon the bed, careful not to wake his wife. Her features displayed the content look of a woman lost in dreams, and her peaceful sigh assured her husband that his wife was indeed having a pleasant dream. Laying out beside her, he leaned close to her and watched her as she slept. Unaware of another being in the bed, she slumbered on, her soft breathing the only sound in the room.

Aragorn leaned over her, and placed a gently kiss upon Arwen's forehead. The slight pressure caused Arwen to stir just enough to roll onto her side, hands moving to bend at the wrists beneath her chin. Aragorn grinned. He toyed with the idea of waking her, and his resolve was decided when she breathed his name in a soft whisper, one she usually rewarded in a moment of intense pleasure, eyes still shut as she dreamed of her husband.

He wrapped one muscled arm around his wife's narrow waist, and gently pulled her against his chest. She stirred and opened her eyes as the sudden movement shook her from her dreams. Tensing for just a moment until reality descended on her, she instantly relaxed as her husband's familiar scent filled her elven senses. She snuggled against him and pressed a delicate kiss to his collarbone as she once more relaxed.

"You were dreaming, meleth-nin."

Arwen nodded lazily. "I was. And it was a pleasant dream." When she did not offer more, Aragorn pressed her, smiling as his fingers tilted her chin so her eyes would meet his. "So it sounded. I have not heard you say my name in that way outside of our late night endeavors. Perhaps you might tell me just what it was I was doing in this dream of yours?"

Arwen giggled and blushed slightly. After years of marriage, and long nights spent in the pursuit of pleasure, his wife could still act the bashful virgin, and truth be told, Aragorn found it equally enticing as the wanton vixen he also knew her capable of being.

"Well?"

Arwen traced the curve of his mouth as her eyes drifted to the nakedness of his chest. "I would tell you, Estel, but a woman must maintain some secrecy so she does not prove bland to the one she wishes to please. Wouldn't you find yourself bored if you knew all of my desires of you, husband?"

Aragorn shook his head, hands roaming the smooth lines of his wife's hips. "I can assure you I would not, Lady. Feel free to tell me whatever it is you desire of me. It is my duty to see your wishes fulfilled." His voice dropped to a low growl, his hand pressing against her thigh to emphasize his point. Arwen's sapphire eyes snapped back to his grey gaze, passion staining the usually clear eyes with darkness. Her own hand moved down between them, fingertips grazing heated skin. Groaning slightly, Aragorn clutched the black fur coverlet shielding his wife's body from his sight and touch and drew it from her.

He rolled her onto her back, and laid his own body atop hers. "Am I warm enough for you, love, or do you require more warmth?" Arwen responded by wrapping her arms around his neck. "You are more than enough, Estel. But lingering for too long might give me cause to shiver. I think there should be less talk and more action, if we are to ward off any chill." The King smiled down at his queen, and before he bent his head to kiss her, he remarked, "What a smart wife I have married."

And within the confines of the Palace, the King's study remained unoccupied for the rest of the day, a stack of papers sitting upon his desk, detailing the events of a state visit from Harad.


End file.
